That didn’t sound like the whole story, not nearly. It certainly didn’t explain why George had suddenly decided that mere friendship with Ollie was no longer enough for him. Why he was here, tonight, at Redford’s. Theo wanted to probe further, but he wasn’t sure he should, not with George looking so bleak.
“Can I ask you something?” George said quietly.
“Of course.”
George met his Theo’s eyes, his own dark gaze very direct. “After you caught Ollie and I together, did you tell anyone?”
“What? No!” Theo said immediately, insulted by the very idea. “I would never.” As soon the words were out, it occurred to him why George was asking. “Was that why Fletch’s father thrashed him? He found out about you two?”
George’s nodded, slowly. “Sir Joseph discovered us in the same place you did, just a few days later.”
Theo huffed. “I can’t say I’m surprised. God knows you two weren’t being very careful." Then his stomach twisted as realisation dawned. “You thought I told him.”
George flushed and looked away.
Suddenly, everything made sense. George’s coldness this evening when he’d always seemed to like Theo before, despite the way Theo had teased him.
“Listen to me,” Theo said quietly. “I never told a soul what I saw that day, I swear.”
George nodded, swallowing visibly. Eventually he whispered, “I believe you.”
For a while, they were both quiet. Then Theo said, “Why have you only come to Redford’s now? Just before Fletch gets married?”
George didn’t answer straight away. He stared into his wine glass, seeming to consider the question. At last he said, “Up until quite recently, I had been planning to marry too. I’d persuaded myself that, since that was my intention, it would be wrong to indulge my private urges. But recently…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath before he began again. “Recently, some things in my life changed and I began to see my future differently. Or rather, I’m not sure how I see my future now. I don’t think I’ll know until I understand what this thing I've always desired is like. Even though finding out is terrifying.” He sent Theo a frustrated look. “Does that make any sense at all?”
Theo nodded. “It’s terrifying to do something you’ve always been told is unspeakably wrong. I know very well how that feels. Everyone here does, probably.”
George blinked at him, then glanced around the room, at the various groups of men gathered, as though he was seeing them for the first time.
After a while, Theo said quietly, “Do you want to see the private rooms now? I can show you, or ask one of the footmen to fetch Potter, if you prefer?”
George returned his gaze to Theo. “Would—would you show me?”
In that moment, he looked very like the boy Theo had been so taken with, in that last year at St. Dominic’s. Sweet and appealing and trusting.
Far, far too trusting.
But that was the past. Now they were older and everything was different.
Determinedly, Theo thrust his memories aside.
“Of course,” he said, rising from his chair. “I’d be happy to.”
7
GEORGE
George followed Theo through the long, twisting corridor that led to the private area of the club, located in the neighbouring property. He felt an odd, inappropriate urge to laugh. He was making his way into a den of iniquity with none other than Theo Caldwell and it was the last thing he’d have expected to be doing at the start of his evening. He would never have imagined that Theo Caldwell, of all people, harboured a preference for his own sex.
“That’s the main room where anyone can go,” Theo said, gesturing at a set of double doors ahead of them. “The other rooms on this floor are for private use.” He paused. “Do you want to go in?” When George hesitated, he added, “You’re not obliged to do anything. Lots of people just watch, and you’re free to leave as soon as you wish. It’s entirely up to you.”
“All right then,” George said, hating that his voice audibly shook. Clearing his throat, he added brightly, “Lead the way.”
Theo clapped him on the shoulder, an approving sort of gesture, and stepped forward, opening the right-hand door. The murmur of a few quiet voices drifted out, but it did not sound terribly busy, and sure enough, when George stepped inside, he saw that there were only a few men in there.
The lighting was low, a little brighter at the centre of the room where there was an open area but with deeply shadowed corners. The open area was surrounded by chairs and sofas, some low, padded benches. There was standing room too, the whole space large enough for perhaps thirty or forty, all told. At present though, there was nowhere near that many. The open area was occupied by three men. Besides them, there were a handful of others: a grizzled man of about sixty sitting alone with a bottle of brandy, and two couples. One of the couples sat apart from the others in the shadows, engrossed in their own private, dishevelled intimacy. The other couple occupied a large armchair, one man seated on the lap of the other, wine glasses lolling from their fingertips. They, and the older gentleman, were watching the group of three men in the centre of the room, two of whom were already naked and working together to disrobe the third.
Theo, who had come to stand beside George, leaned in and whispered, “Would you like to watch? They plainly desire an audience.” The gust of his warm breath against George’s ear made George's shoulder and neck prickle pleasurably with goosebumps, even as his stomach lurched with nerves.
